, 1887-06-03

Ahh sAAtN cANA PhkafNA AAo ~
'Dut wnat nonsense I am talkingl't he
suddenly continued, my poor friends
poor friend could not be buried at all
then why should he hnvo painted a land
scape over heri She is there. far off there,
under the sands of the Hook, or her bones
are deep in the ooze OF the bayf'
As TO said this his long arm with the
long hand seemed to stretch away IN tho
freight as II it7could point exactly to the
spot where that hapless child lay buried.
l could stand the strain no longer and
started up. But he WAS quicker than /,
AMI before I could oppose the movement
had seized his hat and was gone.
How long / stood I do not know, but
the certainty that he had confessed bis
crime to mo was paramount. / wanted
light-compnnionship, and, striking a
match, touched It TO q candle before Henry
Browns masterpiece. In the center, whore
the blossoms from tho apple trees were
strcwn, was a low mound that 1 had not
noted before. ''It Is her grave" 1 NUT
tered. As I did 60 I noted a place where
the thick puint In that spot had sprung,
and, holding tho candle close, detected
other cracks near by. Trying the largest
with my nah, a thin, fat piece sprang on.
/ gazed c~uriously into the opening. Under
meath was the corner of nm eye.
That night l read not ut all and slept
little; the next morning I had my picture
taken TO n restorer, and babe him remove
from the figure beneath every trace of tho
landscape. 1t was not q matter of days,
but Of weeks; and, meantime, Henry
Brown had avoided me, and finally sent
word that no would leave next day for
Europe. I went to the Gordens q few
days after receiving his good by note, and
happened to mention his departure
by the by" 1 added, as we parted,
'you have never como to SEQ my picture
by Henry Brown, as you promised. If
you do not trust my taste you do you
husbands, and he saw and marveled
at it."
lyon have never asked mo again." said
Mrs. Van Gorden, quite in her usual vein.
TASK us to tea; let nobody else interrupt,
and wo will give you our opinion. l hear ~
she turned and said a word or two to tho
servant, ~ hear that this painter, Drown,
Is very strong, indeed-quite an original
man In his wny1''
"uo is, So" answered 1, wondering
what these good people would think If I
should tell them of that scene before the
picture and describe the way In which
Henry Browns lean hands writhed and
his stealthy body undulated as he told ma
about his poor friends poor friend"
The Gordens came one afternoon, and
"hVh "o "tIt tuSCOuCeu VIII u cup VI
tea apiece / called their attention to the
Indian veil that covered q largo frame.
How eoquettish of YOUR exclaimed
Mrs. Van Gordon. you do not want
the dramatic to b. anticipated
and spoiled by the veriest hair, do your
Don't you think It IL nice of him, my
dear,"
81 do, I do" said Gordon, getting up,
but / shall not stay to see the curtain
rise; it will be moro intense without a
third person. I've q telegram to send
and will be back inside Of twenty min
utes."
We sat in silence, looking toward the
Indian vel, n a certain embarrassment
occurred; m indefinnble haze OF self con-
seriousness embodied me and perhaps made
itself felt with Mrs. Van Gorden. She
appeared to be trying to speak, for her
mouth would move a little and then be Mt
rest. I fancied she was trying to ask me
something about Henry Brown. Finally
she said:
why did he go to Europef"
"Who GO to Europef'
"Why, how foolish 1 ami I mean-the
painter-what is his name'-of your mys-
terious landscape"
1 was opening my mouth to say 1 did not
know, and to add that generally when
Brown said he was going he did not so,
and when he swore nothing could bulge
him, hen he was sure to flit-I was Just
opening my mouth when the door opened
and In he walked with that gait shat is so
like the movement of a serpent. 1 sprang
up and whipped the curtain OF my land
scape. 1t was q Madonna whose features
were those OF Mrs. Van Gordon.
The latter sat looking from the picture
to the artist with a frozen face, but eyes
brilliant with anger, contempt, indigna-
ton. Brown saw hat some one was
there, bowed, and was all ready with his
usual look Of surprise and his usual re-
mark at variance with his real sentiments
when his eyes, following their normal
course when in my rooms, traveled to the
fireplace and the picture. He stiffened
whero he stood, gasped-then saw whose
face 1t was that blazed before him. He
struggled to speak, out the words seemed
to die in his throat; at last he whispered:
"You-you did not drown-after all. "
Mrs. Van Gordon rose from he- chair
and an expression of infinite contempt and
a little, yes, just a little, pity softened tho
look of a lioness at bay.
go" she said. go. I forgavo you
long ago. Dut l never wish to see you
again. Leave this country and return no
more
Henry Brown had suffered acute aston
ishmeut, dismny, rellef-joy, inexpressible
and shame the most ~crushing-an In a
minute. Without a word, a look at me,
he. turned and passed away; his undulnt.
ing step took him swiftly to the door. As
II opened int closed I seemed to hear the
rafting of scalss.-'Caiush In New York
Times